Amity Girl
by totallyrandomwigs
Summary: Amity is my favourite faction, so I wondered what the first book/film would have been like if there'd been an Amity transfer. So Emily, an Amity born, chooses Dauntless. Emily and Tris couldn't be more different, but she's got a secret too, and chooses a very different path.
1. Chapter 1

**1\. **

**Warning. I fully intend to mess with the canon here. Be warned. Also, there will be an OC. I've tried really hard not to make her mary-sue-y or irritating, I promise. Also, I know the Amity-to-Dauntless thing has been done before, I'm sorry. I just wanted to do it again, because Amity is my favourite faction. I hope you enjoy, and any suggestions, advice or reviews would be welcomed. **

I couldn't see properly, it was too dim and gloomy. The room was completely bare except for a seat that looked like a dentists' chair. Actually, no. There was someone sitting in the corner. Try as I might, I couldn't see her face. Or his face.

'Sit.' the Someone gestured towards the chair. I sat, and the Someone handed me a glass of liquid. I downed it as I knew I was supposed to, and almost immediately I was alone. The chair, the Someone...all had gone, and there were only mirrors and my reflection. I felt kind of dizzy, surrounded by so many versions of myself.

'Hey,'

I turned around, bewildered, to see my own reflection. 'Are...are you talking to me?'

My reflection looked impassively back. 'Choose.'

'Choose what?' I suddenly noticed two tables. One with cheese, one with a long, serviceable knife.

'Why?'

'Just choose.' the reflection repeated calmly. I shook my head. _It's not real, _she thought. _Hey, maybe I'll get Erudite. _

A vicious snarl interrupted my smug little reverie. A huge dog, glistening fangs bared, crouched in the corner of the room. _Oh no. _I like dogs, but this one looked...hungry.I frantically tried to remember what father had told me regarding vicious dogs. The dog flung itself across the room at my throat. I tried to dodge, and the dog squared up to me again. Dogs can smell fear. I looked it square in the eye as it approached for the second time, and relaxed. _It's not real. _I waited. Nothing happened.

'Hey, a puppy.'

I looked up in surprise. The dog was lying at my feet, tongue lolling. A young Amity girl was walking towards the dog, hands outstretched. The dog's head snapped around with a blood curdling growl. It leapt towards the girl and my heart stopped. I grabbed the scruff of the dog's neck with both hands. The weight and momentum of the dog nearly dragged me off me feet, but I managed to hang on. 'Run,' I shouted to the girl. 'Run! Now!'

Then I was back in the dim room. It was over. Was that it?

'How did I...' I began, turning to the Someone in the corner. I stopped. The Someone was pointing straight at me. 'You.'

'Me...?'

'You are different. You are dangerous. You must be destroyed.'

'What? I just want to know what my result is! I'm not _dangerous_.'

'You are a divergent, and cannot be allowed to poison our society.'

'A what? What's a divergent? Why won't you tell me?'

The Someone advanced on me until I felt the the cold wall pressing into my back and arms. 'Please...' I began, and then stopped as I saw Mama and Father standing behind the Someone. Contempt and fear was written on their faces. Contempt and fear for _me._

My brothers stood behind our parents, faces averted. Carrie, my oldest and best friend, shook her head , hatred twisting her features. Suddenly, soldiers dressed in black jumped from nowhere and pinioned my arms painfully behind my back, they were dragging me away...

#

I shot up straight in bed, gasping for breath. Sweat ran down my face, and my pillow was soaked with it. Nice. It was just a dream. Of course it was a dream. The real thing hadn't been nearly so bad. The plump Abnegation girl who had conducted my aptitude test had been kind and friendly, like Abnegation always were. Her black hair was pulled back in the customary Abnegation bun at the nape of her neck, and she looked harassed.

'You're listed as Emily Arbe, is that right? Nervous?' she asked me brightly.

'A little. Is there anything to worry about?'

'Not at all. I mean, you'll probably get Amity. Most people get the faction they were born in. Although this is only my first year doing this.' she added, and then flushed, as if she shouldn't really be talking about herself.

'Good for you. Do you enjoy giving aptitude tests?' I couldn't help wincing at the fake over-friendliness in my voice. Small talk had never been my forte, although I've gotten very good at faking friendliness over the years. But the Abnegation girl smiled at me gratefully. 'It doesn't really matter what I think. Although you're the first one to be nice to me today.'

'Really?'

'Yes. I've only had people from Candor, Erudite and Dauntless. They all seem to think Abnegation is a joke.'

I nodded. It was true; the selfless Abnegation faction was the butt of much contempt. It wasn't fair. 'If it makes you feel any better,' I volunteered, making myself comfortable in the chair, 'They laugh at us too. They think the Amity are just stupid farmers.'

When the test was over, I winced at the headache the simulation fluid had given me, and looked over to the Abnegation girl. She was fiddling with her computer screen with a strange look on her face. I padded over and peered over her shoulder, and the Abnegation girl jumped, covering the screen with her arm. But it was too late; I'd seen it. The five Faction symbols were pulsing gently on the screen. One symbol should be highlighted following the aptitude test. The only thing was, _my_ screen had four symbols highlighted, and they were flashing a dangerous red.

'W..what's going on?' I stammered. The Abnegation girl ignored her, tapping the screen until the red flashing stopped, and only one symbol was highlighted. 'Nothing.' she replied after a moment. 'Your result is Amity. You can go now.'

I stared at her. Well, I'd never had an Abnegation speak so brusquely to her. 'What aren't you telling me?'

The Abnegation girl looked away and chewed her lip. 'Nothing. Your result is Amity, as I told you it would be. Now, if you don't mind, there are a lot of people waiting to take their test...'

I folded my arms. 'Abnegation aren't good liars. Please, if you're holding something back...it's something I could need to know before I choose tomorrow. I thought I might get...Candor, maybe?'

The Abnegation girl looked down. 'You got Candor.'

'Oh,' I breathed out.

'And Amity. And Dauntless. And Erudite. You tested positive for four of the five factions.'

'But how? I mean, there's only so many choices in the simulation, so surely...'

The Abnegation girl shook her head. 'Your results were inconclusive. They call it Divergence,' she interrupted. Another trait unusual in Abnegation. 'I didn't want to tell you because it is dangerous.'

I felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. 'How can it be dangerous?'

'People who don't fit into any one faction cannot be controlled by the faction system. Many powerful people will feel threatened by you, so you must keep it a secret. Try and forget this ever happened, and tell everyone your result was Amity, or Abnegation. If it's known that you are a divergent...well, I don't know what will happen to you. But it will be bad, I guarantee it. And you'll drag me down with you, because they will know that I lied for you.'

'You did?'

'Yes, I manually entered Amity into your results. Now please, go.' the Abnegation actually gave me a little push towards the door.

'Wait,' I stopped just before she opened the door to leave. 'I didn't thank you. What's your name?'

The Abnegation girl hesitated. 'Christie. Go!'

'I'm Emil...' the door closed firmly in my face.

#

Divergent. I didn't even know that was thing, and now I was one. _Why couldn't I have just got Amity like everyone else?_ I thought. Surely it wasn't that bad.

'Emily?' Carrie whispered. It was still dark, the sun hadn't touched the horizon yet. Carrie was my best friend, and she was staying with the rest of the my family. I tried to breathe quietly and not make too much noise after my nightmare, but Carrie's a light sleeper.

The Amity have big families, and my parents, John and Mary Arbe, had no less than ten children; eight boys and two girls. My oldest brother, Steven, chose Amity. The second, David, chose Abnegation. The twins Jeremy and Jerome chose Erudite and Candor respectively. The next three boys, Robert, Paul and Hamish all chose Amity. Now it was my turn.

'What was your result?' Carrie asked.

I said nothing. We're not supposed to talk about or tests, let alone ask, but Carrie's never been good at keeping her mouth shut.

'Mine was Amity.' Carrie volunteered.

_There_ was a surprise. Carrie was the ideal Amity girl. Besides, she'd been going out with my brother Hamish for almost a year.

_Surely it wouldn't be so bad to tell Carrie. I mean, I know she can't keep a secret, but this is really important. I'm sure she could keep it to herself. Maybe she could give me some advice. _

I opened my mouth to speak.

'Breakfast!' Father shouted, breaking the stillness. Around us, people stirred groggily, murmuring and complaining.

'Why are we getting up so early?' I asked Father.

'It's the choosing ceremony. We have to travel back into town today. We need an early start. Come on, you've a big day today.' he smiled kindly at me. He's sure I'm going to choose Amity. We're all so happy here, who'd want to be anywhere else?

Even this early, the queue for food was long, and people are chattering and laughing happily. I avoided eye contact. It was just too early for conversation.

'Look, Roger's serving today.' Carrie nudged me in the ribs with her tray, and my heart sank. Roger was a typical Amity boy. He had been born in Amity, and chose Amity last year. He had a lazy smile and long floppy hair, a good sense of humour and nothing ever riled him. He liked everyone and everything. And he especially liked me. I don't know what's so great about me.

'Here you go, Emily.' he deposited a handful of carrots on my tray. 'Good luck today. Go with happiness.'

I cracked. Every single day, three times a day for the last sixteen years, someone had told her to go with happiness.

'Why?' I said aloud.

'Hm?' Roger looked at me blankly.

'Why did you say that? You don't really care if I "go with happiness" or not. It's just a thing you say. It doesn't mean anything. You say it to every single person every day. It means _nothing._' my voice grew higher and higher, until I realised there was silence around me. Everyone was looking at me. Oops. Roger looked dumbfounded. I felt my cheeks start to burn. Why do I always end up making a scene? Then Roger smiled. 'It's all right, Emily.' he reached out and squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. 'You're choosing today, aren't you? I know you're afraid. But everything will be fine. Here, have some more bread.'

For some inexplicable reason, I just wanted to slap his face. But I choked back a scathing response and forced a smile. 'I'm sorry, Roger. You're right, I am afraid. But I should not have spoken so harshly for you. Forgive me.'

Roger nodded understandingly, and I hurriedly moved away. I knew what was expected of me, but didn't often manage to do it. What was wrong with me? Roger didn't deserve that. He was just trying to be nice. _I'm _the one with the problem. I'm _always _the one with the problem.

'Emily Arbe?' I heard a blonde woman behind me whisper to her companion.

'That's her. John Arbe made the new thresher, remember? He fixes the machines. An excellent man.'

'Ah yes. Choosing today, is she?'

'Yes. No one thinks that she'll choose Amity. I think this is the last we'll see of her.'

'I suppose not. She doesn't really belong here, does she?'

I put her head down and concentrated on my food. The conversation she had overheard had had no malice or dislike in it all. That made it worse.

#

'You're not wearing that!' Carrie cried.

'Why not?' I had pulled on my usual red check shirt with worn, grubby beige trousers. They were my favourite clothes, being comfortable and practical for work.

'It's our _choosing ceremony_. We're going into the city! We never get to go into the city. We need to dress up.' Carrie would not be stopped, and she soon had me wearing a light yellow peasant blouse and a long red skirt.

'See how nice you look,' Carrie grinned. _She_ looked beautiful in anything. She had waist length light blonde hair that was almost white, and clear blue eyes. My chestnut coloured hair was curly, but not the glossy ringlets and corkscrew curls Mama had. My stupid curls defied brushing or styling of any sort. Usually I plait both sides to keep my hair out of my face – it gets hot and sweaty working in the fields all day - and wind the rest into one long plait that hangs down my back, and slaps me in the face if I turn around really quickly.

'No, leave it loose today,' Carrie insisted.

#

Almost everyone came out to see us off. All the ones who were choosing and their families crowded onto the trucks, talking animatedly. I found a seat and concentrated on not throwing up my breakfast.

'Nervous?' Carrie asked breezily.

'Me? No, no.' I answered hurriedly, casting a furtive glance around. No one else seemed nervous. They were all chattering and laughing with each other._ It's all right for them, _I thought sourly. _They know exactly what faction they have to choose. I have absolutely no idea. Let me think, what did the Abnegation girl – Christie, was it? What did she say? Erudite...Candor...Dauntless. And Amity. Well, Candor is ruled out, for a start. If I can't tell anyone I'm divergent, I can't go into the _honest _faction. And Erudite are supposed to be intelligent, so that's not a good idea either. They'd figure me out in no time. I didn't get Abnegation in my test, and I don't think I'd be good at being selfless. So it's either Dauntless or Amity. _

I wasn't sure if I wanted to stay. I wasn't sure what I wanted. _My family is here. My friends. But I don't know if I can spend the rest of my life biting my tongue. I always say the wrong thing, I always hurt people's feelings. They ignore it now, but if I choose Amity...it will all change. _I'll _have to change. I don't know if I can. _

Wrapped up in my own thoughts, I don't think I spoke a word for the entire journey. I barely heard the lively buzz of conversation. I think one or two people tried to speak to me, but I stared past them as if they were not there, and they soon gave up. I saw Mama cast worried little glances at me, frowning.

'John,' she whispered quietly to Father, 'Look at Emily.'

Father looked, and said nothing. I just knew that the look on my face was the exact same look David, Jerome and Jeremy had all had before they chose to defect. I wasn't sure how Mama would take losing me. I spent most of my time with her and Carrie. My younger sister, Marie, spent most of her time doing goodness knows what, running all over the fields with her twin brother, Joshua. She was the only other girl in the family, and _she _wasn't going to be much comfort if I defected.

I tried not to think about it, and focused entirely on the rumbling and swaying of the truck. Father had been a transfer from Erudite, and he had made a life for himself building new machines for us, new vehicles, and fixing the old ones. He spent three months transforming this very truck from a rusted, burned out wreck into a reliable truck we could use. Suddenly we were there. We piled out, laughing loudly. I watch the Erudite sniff and roll their eyes at our effusive greetings. Candor hardly notice us, they are too busy arguing amongst themselves. I'd hate to be in Candor. They're supposed to be entirely truthful, but the truth is subjective. As Father says, what the truth is depends on where you're standing. So as a result, Candor members just argue all the time, because each one believes he or she is in the right. Abnegation members just smile mildly at us. When we get into the Hub, a group of Abnegation get out of the elevator to let me and my family in, and I see them start up the stairs. Surely they're not going to walk all the way up?

#

Finally, we are there, and now I am nervous. Mama is on one side of me, Carrie on the other. The names are being read out in reverse alphabetical order, so I will be last. Great.

'Here goes.' Carrie whispers, as her name is called. She goes up to the five bowls, winces as she cuts a tiny cut on her palm, and drips a single drop of her blood into the Amity bowl. _Faction before blood. _I thought she would come back and sit with us, but she has to stand behind the Amity section.

I prick up my ears when 'Caleb Prior' is called. Prior? That name sounds familiar. Oh yes, he will be the son of Alexander Prior, who is an Abnegation leader. There is a collective intake of breath as Caleb Prior chooses Erudite. Erudite are Abnegation's bitterest rivals. I bet Caleb's parents are proud. Then Beatrice Prior is called. After a moment's hesitation, she chooses Dauntless. This time the muttering and hissing is much, much louder. I glance over at the Abnegation section. This will not go down well.

Finally, _finally, _my name is called. Emily Arbe. I can't look at anything except those five bowls. I pick up the knife and make the smallest cut possible. It stings, and I berate myself for being such a baby. I look at the Amity bowl, filled with earth, but my arm goes out of its own accord. I have already decided. Dauntless. I drip my blood onto the sizzling coals.

'Dauntless!' I hear the announcement being made, and unhappy murmurs from my faction. The Dauntless faction cheers wildly, and someone jumps up to give me their seat.

I don't need the seat. There is no one else after me, and Dauntless start to file out the door immediately. I can't help it, I look back to see my family. Mama is crying, Father has his arm around her. Steven looks grim and stern, Robert and Paul look shellshocked. Carrie is staring straight at me, and I can't face her look of betrayal and hurt. Hamish can't even look at me, he's trying to talk to Carrie instead. I look away quickly, and follow my new faction. A doubt prickles in the back of mind. Will it be worth it?


	2. Chapter 2

**2\. OK, I'm trying to get the other characters involved. I really enjoyed the books and the movie, so I've tried to get a balance between the two. Any suggestions or advice would be really welcomed!**

We all run down the stairs and across the courtyard. I can't think straight, I just keep remembering my parents' faces. Engrossed in my worries that I've made the wrong choice, I nearly stumble down the stairs, and someone elbows me in the ribs, hard. They don't even apologize, but I suppose I'll have to get used to that. We all climb up onto a high metal platform, and I realise that my long skirt is going to be a problem. I try and roll up my skirt around my knees, and start to climb. I'm nearly at the top when I accidentally step on my hem and slip. My heart pounds, and I daren't look down.

'Here, give me your hand,' a male voice shouts from above. I grab the proffered hand, and he drags me up onto the platform frighteningly easily.

'Thanks,' I reply, squinting at him. He's tall, very tall. I barely come up to his shoulder, and he's broad too. His black and white clothing tells me he is Candor, and that immediately makes it awkward. Amity and Candor have never got on. Candor think we use deceit to keep the peace.

'I'm Al,' he blurts out.

'I'm Emily. Is that our train?' The train approaches, but doesn't seem to be slowing down.

'It's not stopping,' Al frowns.

'Look, the Dauntless born are running. I think we're going to have to jump on,' I tell him, and we both break into a run. I've torn my skirt up the side, and it means I can move my legs a little more. I feel ridiculous. Al runs alongside me, and hauls himself up first, with more strength than grace. I copy him, grabbing a rail and swinging myself into the carriage, skinning my knuckles in the process.

The Abnegation girl, Beatrice Prior, is the last to make it into the carriage and she sits, breathless, like she can't believe she's managed it. I look around the carriage to see who the transfers are. The Dauntless born group together, laughing and joking loudly. There are at least four Candor transfers apart from Al, two girls and two boys, and at least three Erudite transfers, two boys and girl. And of course, Beatrice, from Abnegation. She catches my eye and smiles shyly. 'I'm Emily,' I introduce myself. I instinctively reach over to hug her or shake her hand, before I remember that Abnegation don't like casual physical contact.

'I'm Christina,' the Candor girl sitting next to Beatrice tells me. She's tall, with thick chin-length black hair. That starts off a round of introductions. There is Will, a shaggy, blond-haired boy from Erudite, with a mischievous grin, there's Edward, a fair boy with a square, handsome face, from Erudite, and I notice he's holding hands with the mousy Erudite girl, Myra. The other three Candor transfers are Peter, Molly and Drew. They stand together and don't speak to anyone. When Beatrice speaks, they shoot poisonous looks at her. I try not to dislike them. Amity don't dislike anyone. I know I'm not supposed to be Amity anymore, but I've never wanted more to hang on to my Amity heritage.

'Get ready.' someone shouts down the carriage. She sounds bored and matter-of-fact, so it mustn't be anything exciting.

'Are they...jumping?' Beatrice asks cautiously.

'What?' Christina and I ask at the same time. My blood runs cold as I see the Dauntless born lining themselves up on the opposite wall of the carriage, then do a running jump out of the open door.

'How high up are we?' Al asks, his voice quavering. It's strange to see someone so big and strong so scared. I risk a peek out of the carriage and wish I hadn't. 'A long way. Maybe six or seven stories.' I tell him, and he blanches.

'I'm not jumping,' someone says, and I notice for the first time, standing in the corner of the train, there is another Amity transfer. I don't recognize him, and he looks like he is crying.

'We have to jump,' I insist, laying my hand on his shoulder reassuringly, 'otherwise we'll be factionless. It can't be dangerous, otherwise they wouldn't let us do it, surely,'

He just shakes his head. I want to stay and reason with him, but already there's only four of us left, and Beatrice and Christina are preparing to leap together. If I don't leave now, I won't make it.

'Please,' I beg, trying one last time. 'You can make it, I'm sure.'

He shakes his head again, pressing against the wall of the carriage. I have to go. I try not to think about it too much as I run towards the opening. For a split second I feel as if I will plummet down into the gap between the roof and the train, and then I slam into the gravel and I am safe. Sore and winded, but safe.

'You OK?' Christina asks, grinning at me. I haven't the breath to do anything except smile. We've all made it.

Almost all.

I hear a wail. A girl is leaning over the wall, screaming. Beatrice goes to see, and immediately turns back. 'Don't look,' she mumbles to us. 'Somebody fell. She's dead.'

I feel sick. Beatrice looks like she's about to vomit.

'Alright, everybody listen up!' a man shouts from the other end of the roof. I rub the gravel off my scraped knees and elbows, and limp over. There is a man standing calmly on the ledge, and there are a few adult Dauntless leaning against the wall, scowling at us. They're all pierced and tattooed, with hair dyed strange colours, or in dreadlocks. The man I would judge to be in his early twenties, and I have never seen anyone like him. Men in Amity nearly always have long hair, and they all have the same expression – relaxed, calm, happy. This man has his hair practically shaved, there are tattoos going up his neck to his jaw line and along his thick forearms, and he is pierced in several places. He looks pretty angry, and anger isn't something I'm used to dealing with.

With a shock, I realise he is telling us that to get into the Dauntless compound, we have to jump off the roof.

'Is there water at the bottom?' Will speaks up. The man – Eric – looks at him with icy blue eyes. 'I guess you'll find out.'

'_I_ wouldn't want to jump with that little information,' Edward whispers to me with a grim smile. Nobody volunteers to go first, not even the Dauntless born. Eric crosses his muscled arms and surveys the company. 'Come on. Somebody has to go first.'

'Me.'

We all look to see who's brave enough to go first, and I'm not surprised to see that it's Beatrice. She teeters on the ledge, staring down into the black hole she has to jump into.

'Today, initiate.' Eric says coldly. So Beatrice simply steps off.

She doesn't scream, like I think I would. She just falls and disappears. I wait to see if she will shout up to say she's alright, but there's nothing. Eric waits for a minute then turns to us again. 'OK, who's next?'

_If Beatrice can do it, I can do it, _I tell myself. 'I'll go next.' Might as well get it over with.

Eric looks at me, and nods. I climb up on the ledge like Beatrice did, and my stomach does a flip. I must have stood there for almost a minute, but Eric doesn't hurry me like he did Beatrice. I turn around, and his eyes are fixed on me. I don't think he blinks. Will and Edward smile encouragement, Christina grins, and Al chews his thumb nervously. There is nothing else for it, so I jump. I shriek at the top of my lungs as I fall, and I hit something soft yet solid. A net. It bounces me up into the air before I finally stop. My heart is hammering, and I don't think my legs will support me. I just want to lie there for a while, but it occurs to me that someone else might jump down at any minute, so I'd better get out of the way. I crawl clumsily to the edge of the net, squinting into the darkness. Somebody grabs me around the waist and lifts me down. It is a man of about twenty, with dark eyes and closely cropped dark hair. He is handsome, and I see Beatrice standing behind him with a funny look on her face.

'Name?' he asks sharply.

'Emily Arbe.'

'Second jumper, Emily!' he shouts back into the darkness, and I hear uproarious cheering and shouting. I jump down from the platform and make my way over to Beatrice. She's the only familiar face here.

'Beatrice, you made it,' I smile at her.

'Call me Tris,' she answers with a grin.

It's funny, I thought Abnegation weren't supposed to have nicknames, but then, she's not Abnegation anymore. We're Dauntless.

#

It seems to take ages for everyone to get down from the roof. Christina comes next, and Al is one of the last to jump, and he is blanched and shaking when he climbs off the net. I feel sorry for him, but I think he might have to toughen up. So far, we've had to jump _on _a train, jump _off _a train – over a seven story drop – and jump off the side of a roof to an uncertain fate. When we're all assembled, the man that helped me off the net paces in front of us. 'My name is Four,' he announces, and out of the corner of my eye I see Beatrice's...sorry, Tris's...eyes intently following him as he paces back and forth. Between them, Eric and Four explain that we will be trained separately from the Dauntless born. We will all be ranked on our performance during training. There will be three stages of training, physical, emotional and mental, and at the end of the first and third stage the lowest ranking initiates will be cut. We will be ranked together with the Dauntless born.

There is a hiss at this news. It hasn't occurred to any of us that we might fail our initiation and become factionless.

'It isn't fair,' I whisper to Al, 'The Dauntless born have an advantage. They've probably spent their lives being trained, and they probably know what's going to happen. Are we supposed to be as good as them after just a few weeks? It's just not fair.'

Al opens his mouth to say something, then hastily steps back. I turn to see what he's looking at, and I realise that Eric is standing right in front of me, arms folded. The others have parted to let him past, and his eyes are fixed firmly on me. 'Something you'd like to share, Amity girl?' he asks, and there's a titter of laughter. I think it's from Peter.

'No,' I answer. I can feel myself going red. I have to tilt my head to look up at him, and it puts me at a disadvantage.

'Are you sure? Nothing you'd like to tell us all? Something that's not fair, perhaps?'

_Rats. He heard._ 'Not that I can think of.' I'm not going to look away until he looks away. He stares at me for a few very long seconds. 'Okay.' He says quietly, then turns and walks away, and continues with his lecture. I breathe out. My eyes sting from not blinking.

'Ooh, rebellious,' Christina nudges me.

Al breathes out heavily behind me. 'I thought you were in for it there,' he says.

'You and me both!' Truth be told, I thought my career in Dauntless was going to be over before it had even begun. Like the other Amity transfer. He didn't even make it off the train.

'You shouldn't have been smiling like that,' Tris says, shaking her head.

'I wasn't smiling,'

Christina laughs. 'You're Amity! You guys look like you're smiling when you're not. You're just...happy. All the time. Even when you're frowning, you look kind of happy.' she reaches out and squeezes my cheeks playfully. It still hurts, she's got a strong grip.

Four leads the way to the dormitories.

'Who sleeps here, boys or girls?' Will asks.

'Both,' Four replies shortly. There is a collective intake of breath. Tris looks horrified. It doesn't really bother me so much. My family had a large house on the edge of the wood, but it was more like a barn, really. Father and Mama had their own room, but the rest of us shared one huge room at the top of the house. There was six of us (Steven had married an Amity girl, Cora, and they had their own little ramshackle house), plus Carrie (Carrie's parents had been killed when a cart overturned about ten years ago, so she had more or less lived with us since then). Also my brothers always had at least one friend staying over. We all slept on straw mattresses and piles of blankets on the floor, so I was used to sharing a room with eight or nine people, some of them boys.

I'll bet Tris isn't used to it, though.

They've left a small pile of clothes out for us to change into. All black, of course. Tris is in the bed next to me, and Al is on the bunk above her. Both Al and Tris are trying to change without actually showing any skin, and it's kind of funny to watch. I'm not too self-conscious.

'That's nice,' Tris nods at my bracelet as I take it off. It's make of thick, coarse string, braided together in a complex pattern, with a few wooden beads. I don't like jewellery too much, but Carrie made me this.

'I guess I should get rid of it,' I say unenthusiastically, twisting the wooden beads in my fingers. Tris chews her lip. 'Well, it isn't that bright or noticeable...you could probably get away with keeping it. I won't tell.' she smiles reassuringly.

I decide to keep it.

#

I don't like how we all wear the same clothes. Black and tight. My black t-shirt, trousers and boots are identical to Tris's. That was one thing I suppose I liked about Amity; there were plenty of different shades of red and yellow, and nobody had the same outfit on any one day.

We follow each other into the cafeteria, and it's already full of people, who cheer loudly to see us. It's noisy and messy and the energy runs high in here, unlike the relaxed Amity group meals. Back home, there was a meal served for breakfast and dinner. We made our own evening meals at home.

'Shall we sit here?' Tris suggests. I see that Four is sitting on the end of that particular table. Christina catches my eye and we hide our smiles.

There's a pile of hamburgers and chicken drumsticks I can't take my eyes off.

'What's the matter, never seen a hamburger before?' Will asks Tris.

'I've seen one, I've just never had one before.' she explains, awkwardly dropping one onto her plate.

'How about you, Emily?' Al asks me curiously.

'Some Amity families do eat meat, but mine didn't,' I shrug. 'If I went to any of my friends' houses for a meal, they made sure not to serve me meat. I don't know if I want to try it or not.'

'You should try some, it's good,' Tris advises through a mouthful of hamburger.

We fall to talking about our own factions. Tris not-too-subtly tries to include Four in the conversation by asking him about his faction.

'Are you kidding me?' he asks shortly.

'….' Tris has no response.

'What makes you think you can talk to me?' He waits, and for a second I think Tris isn't going to say anything.

'It must be because you're so approachable.' she says quietly. He looks sharply at her, and she looks back at her plate with a tiny smile on her face. Christina is watching with interest, Will has sensibly buried his face in his mug, and I can't help a snort of laughter. Al pokes me and I turn it into a cough which doesn't fool anyone.

#

The first night is by far the worst. Tris doesn't even change out of her clothes, probably because Peter and Molly make catcalls and comments whenever they have a chance. They have a nickname for her, "Stiff". Peter is the worst, Molly and Drew just follow like good little doggies.

'You should tell him where he can stuff his stupid comments,' I tell her quietly.

She shakes her head. 'What good would that do? There's three of them and only one of me, Emily.'

They call her ugly, and that really annoys me, because Tris is beautiful. She has lovely blonde hair, the kind of hair I'd kill to have, and big eyes with long lashes. I remember Mama saying that if a person is kind, and gentle, with a beautiful personality, if they are strong but thoughtful, and have good thoughts, that will always shine out of their faces and make them look beautiful. Tris has that kind of quality. A lot of the Abnegation do. I wish I was like that. I have a lot of mean thoughts which I am careful to keep to myself. I don't think I'm kind or thoughtful, although I wish I was. Back home, I managed to pretend.

'Remember, we have to be at the Pit at eight,' Tris reminds me, as she climbs into bed.

'I don't know how I'll get up in time. We all got up when the sun came up back home. You can't see the sun here.' I say.

Tris says nothing. There's nothing she can say.

I just can't sleep, and I think most of us are in the same boat. At home, I was used to people snoring, muttering and snuffling in their sleep. Here, all I can hear is people twisting and turning, wriggling around trying to get comfortable, desperately trying to sleep and forget.

Then I hear someone crying. It's coming from my left. It's not Tris, so it must be Al. It sounds like he's trying to muffle his sobs in his pillow and blanket. The bunk above mine is empty. Tris tuts quietly to herself. I thought maybe Tris would try and comfort Al, but she doesn't.


	3. Chapter 3

**3\. How's it going? I really have no idea whether this is a good story or a bad story. If you're enjoying the story, or if you're not, I'd really appreciate someone taking the time to write a review and let me know how it's going. :)**

We're woken up by Four banging something against the railings, making a horrible metallic noise that jerks everyone out of sleep immediately.

'Everyone in the Pit, two minutes,' he shouts, and leaves.

Two minutes? Two minutes is not enough time to do anything, let alone get ready. Everyone is heavy and bleary with sleep, and more than one person has swollen, red eyes from crying. Al splashes his face with water to hide the evidence. I notice that Tris casts him a quick, anxious, guilty look.

'Al kept me up all night crying,' she whispers suddenly.

'I know. I heard.'

Tris frowns and pulls a t-shirt on over her head. 'I wish he wouldn't. I could've really used more sleep last night.'

'It's not his fault, Tris. He's homesick. We all are.'

'Exactly. Everyone's nervous and miserable. I just wish he'd keep it to himself.'

I can't agree with her. I pull on the first clothes I lay my hands on and start on my hair. I left it loose yesterday, and what with all the jumping off trains and whatnot, it's gotten pretty tangled. I can hardly drag my fingers through it. I don't have time to brush it, so I drag it back and twist it into a lumpy, uneven plait. That'll have to do. Two wild, curly strands fall either side of my face, they just touch my collarbone. I decide to keep them there. It makes my round face look less pudgy. In fact, I look...good. I look more Dauntless, at least.

'If you're done admiring yourself,' Christina says, elbowing me away from the mirror, 'Some of us need to brush our teeth.'

#

We're so tired we could collapse where we stand. Four and Eric made us run and jog until we could hardly limp. Four introduced us to punch-bags and demonstrated how to use them, how to punch and hit out, how to stand, how to kick. I'm just relieved we're just hitting punch-bags at the minute. I'm sure we're going to have to fight each other. I'll just pray I don't have to fight Al. He's so big he'd probably break all my ribs if he fell on me. Or Peter; Peter's vicious. Ditto Molly and Drew.

'I've never done anything like this before,' Christina gasps. We are allowed a rare break, and all sit together. I sit on the floor, and feel a twinge of pleasure that everyone comes and joins me. I've never been popular.

'I have,' Edward volunteers. 'I used to study hand-to-hand combat.'

'Why?' Christina raises an eyebrow.

Edward shrugs. 'For fun.'

Fun. Right. Like Will memorized a map of the city 'for fun'.

'My father taught me a little,' I'm surprised to hear myself saying. Everyone looks at me.

'Amity are supposed to be peaceful,' Will says curiously. I blush and wish I hadn't say anything.

'Well...Father said that just because we are peaceful doesn't mean everyone else will be...he said there was no harm in teaching me and my brothers a little self-defence.'

'Ah,' Al giggles, 'All the secrets are coming out.'

'It _was_ kind of a secret,' I admit. 'We couldn't tell Mama. She'd be furious. We couldn't tell anyone, because Father would have got into trouble.'

'Well,' Edward grins, 'We'll see how good you are soon enough.'

He has a really nice smile. I don't realise I'm staring until I Myra shoots me a look of dislike. She pointedly drapes an arm around Edward's shoulders, and he turns and smiles at her. I quickly look away.

#

'First jumper!' Eric shouts. I guess that's Tris. She looks up, scared. 'Last jumper! In the ring.'

Oh no. I can't remember who the last jumper is.

'Poor Tris,' Al materializes next to me, 'She's up the against the Tank.'

The Tank. Molly. She's as big and unstoppable as a tank, and about as compassionate as one. Poor Tris indeed.

It's painful to watch and over fairly quickly. Molly knocks Tris out, and steps back, grinning. Will and Al are called up next. This is also pretty unfair. Al is considerably bigger than Will. Will is faster, sure, but fighting Al is like taking on a grizzly bear. Al manages to get one good swing in, and catches Will square on the jaw, and Will goes out like a light. Al is horrified, but he's going to need to get used to this.

'OK, Emily. Peter. In the ring.' Eric calls out.

Poor me.

Peter is pretty tall, taller than me. He's big, but not too big to be slow and clumsy, like Al. I try and remember what Father told me. _It doesn't matter how big and strong the person you're up against is. You just have to make sure they don't get a hold of you. _You're_ not exactly muscle-bound; you won't ever be. You have to be quick. It doesn't matter how hard you hit them; it matters _where_ you hit them. It's no good punching ever so hard if you hit them somewhere like the knee or elbow or shoulder. A relatively soft punch in the stomach or throat will make a difference. A hard kick in the shins may not help you at all, but a firm blow in the back of the knee will bring your man down. _Father was from Erudite. He was smart.

I have no idea how to get into this. We circle each other tentatively; me backing away, Peter advancing. 'Don't worry, Amity girl,' he smirks, 'I'll make this quick, don't worry.' his arm lashes out and catches me on the side of the head. You really do see stars. I barely even saw him move. I taste blood, and realise I must have bitten my tongue.

Peter hits out again, but this time I'm ready, and his fist whooshes past my ear. He frowns and tries to hit again. I'm left handed, so I swing my left fist as hard as I can and my fist connects with his ribs and he makes an _oof _ noise.

'Go on, Emily!' I hear Al shout; it just makes Peter angrier and he lunges at me again. I dodge again and try for another hit. He blocks my left arm, but I swing my right fist and hit him round the jaw. He backs off a few steps. Just as well; both my fists sting and tingle. I risk a glance downwards and catch a glimpse of blood on my knuckles. _I shouldn't have done that. _The next thing I know, I'm lying on the ground with my ears ringing. Peter aims a kick at my face, but I roll out of the way. _I need to get up._ I manage to knee Peter in the back of the legs, and he lands heavily next to me.

After that, I must have acted entirely on instinct. I didn't think it through at all. I get up and on top of Peter before he has time to breathe; I pin his right wrist down with my foot, and pin his left arm down with my knee. I hit him around the face with my left hand as hard as I can, and he's out.

A ragged cheer from my friends goes up, but I'm suddenly horrified. _Is Peter OK? _

'He's fine,' Eric taps me on the back. 'Good job.'

#

'Hey, don't worry about _your _results,' Christina says, 'You beat Peter! That's pretty good!'

I smile, but I'm not too proud about beating Peter. I don't like hurting people, even really irritating people.

Tris is quiet. She knows she hasn't done well. Sure enough, when the results come up, Tris is near the bottom. Dangerously near. Edward is first, Peter is still second (apart from the fight with me, he won all his fights), then me – third! - Will, Molly, Christina, Drew, Al, Tris and Myra. Myra looks worried. I can see Edward with his arm around her, promising to give her extra training. _She'll be alright, _I think sourly, _she's got Edward to look after her. _

Training doesn't get any easier. It's just as well that I beat Peter; that probably boosted my scores, and I don't win any of my other fights over the next few days. Peter gets good really quickly. He wins against everyone except Edward. I don't think I could beat Peter again, not now that he's had proper training and practise. I lose to Molly, I lose to Drew, and I lose to Will. I sink from third to fifth pretty quickly. I'd be lower if Al, Tris and Myra weren't so bad. I win against Tris one day, but that's hardly something to be proud of. I'm pretty short, but she's an inch or two smaller. At least I have some strength from lugging huge bundles of crops and heavy buckets of water around, whereas Tris's arms and legs look like they're going to snap. I give her a good chance, though. I don't kick her when she falls over, like Molly did. I wait for her to get up, even though Eric is glaring at me.

'Sorry about your face,' I tell her later. She's holding an icepack to her cheek. I knew Eric wouldn't let us finish unless one of us was unconscious, but I still feel guilty.

Tris shrugs. 'I'm fine. You did what you had to.'

'You need to use your elbows and knees,' I explain, sitting next to her. We're leaning up against a rolled up mat, and suddenly we both hear voices from behind us, and freeze.

'Come on, just give me one more go in the ring with her,' we hear Peter's whiny voice, 'I'm sure I can beat her this time.'

'What makes you think you'll win this time?' the second is a deep, gruff rumble. Eric's voice, and Tris and I exchange horrified looks. We'll get into big trouble for eavesdropping...even for unintentional eavesdropping. They can't see us from behind the mat, luckily for us.

'Emily got the lucky the first time,' Peter continues, 'I'm better now, and I'll definitely win this time. She's pretty weak...she won't know what's hit her...'

'No,' Eric interrupts, and starts to walk away.

'Why not?' Peter doesn't know when to shut up, does he? 'It'll pull up my score.'

'I don't care. You had your chance.' Eric says over his shoulder. Behind us, Peter growls under his breath and walks away. We breathe out.

'Looks like Peter's got it in for you,' Tris whispers.

'Oh, he can bring it on,' I snap moodily. 'I'm not scared of Peter.'

Famous last words.

#

When we go to the Pit for our evening meal after training is finished, Christina is still shaky from that afternoon's incident. She'd been up against Molly, and I couldn't even watch. Eventually Christina just couldn't take any more.

'Need a break?' Eric inquired sweetly, and alarm bells started to ring in my head.

'Come with me,' Eric says shortly, helping Christina to her feet. Molly looks so smug I want to slap her.

Eric leads us to the Chasm. It's a narrow bridge with only one rail; a steep drop over sharp rocks, with a thundering waterfall crashing down on the rocks. It looks kind of pretty, I suppose, but not up close. On our first day here, Four impressed upon all of us how dangerous the Chasm is. He said that a fall from the bridge into the Chasm would undoubtedly claim our lives.

Halfway across the bridge, without any warning, Eric grabs Christina and throws her over the side of the bridge, dangling her by one arm. She doesn't scream, but I hear her gasp, and she clamps her free hand onto the side of the metal walkway.

'Hold on,' Eric says calmly. 'Or don't.' then he lets go of her other hand. She's now hanging over the Chasm by her hands. I can see the metal digging into her hand, and she grits her teeth. Eric's point is clear; she showed cowardice. This is her punishment. If she can hold on for an unspecified amount of time, he will forgive her. Or she can give up, and become factionless. Of course, she can also simply let go, and fall to her death. Judging by the determination on Christina's face, letting go or giving up is not an option.

My initial reaction is to rush out and help Christina up, regardless of what Eric said. Only Al's hand clamping over my shoulder keeps me in place.

'Don't.' he whispers urgently.

We watch as the seconds tick by painfully slowly. Eric keeps his eyes fixed on Christina. After a few minutes, he glances up at us, and his gaze falls on me. I'm probably glaring at him. He stares back for a second, then announces, 'Time.'

Al gets to Christina first, and hauls her over the side with no difficulty. She's shaking, and I think she might be crying. Who am I kidding. Of course she's crying: she thought she was going to die. I don't care that Dauntless are supposed to be brave, and to spurn cowardice. As everyone loves to remind us, we're not Dauntless yet.

We're all quieter than usual that evening.

'Right, that's it,' Will slaps his thighs loudly, making us all jump. 'I'm tired of us all moping around here,'

Christina looks at him with big eyes.

'I think we should go get more tattoos,' Will suggests, grinning. 'Make us feel more Dauntless.'

'Oh, yeah,' Christina perks up. 'Emily's the only one who hasn't got one.'

Great. I thought I could avoid a tattoo by getting my ears pierced. The woman who did it went a little crazy, and instead of one demure metal stud, I ended up with about six earrings in one ear and five in the other. I tried to hide my shock when she first did it, but I'm getting to like it.

But now, Christina and Will are running around the tattoo parlour, making even more ridiculous suggestions, such as I should get one on my face. As if I would be so stupid. Even Tris has three birds on her collarbone. It's subtle and delicate, which seems to suit her.

'What about that one?' Al points to a design, almost hidden behind the others. I'm about to say _no _anyway, but I stop. It's long design, I could have it down my arm or back. It looks like a twisted, tangled vine, complete with leaves, twigs and tiny delicate flowers. It kind of reminds me of the vines which covered our entire house back home. One single vine, almost exactly like this one, curled across the bedroom window.

'I'll have that one.' I say.

#

Ow. Ow. Bad idea. _Bad._ My whole arm is red and throbbing. I don't know how I'll manage to fight tomorrow. The vine tattoo starts at my right shoulder, and curls down, stopping in the middle of my forearm. It hurt a lot more than I expected, but I kind of like the way it looks.

'The soreness will stop in a day or two,' the tattooist assures me, grinning. I bet he's used to initiates whining and crying over their tattoos and piercings. At least I didn't cry. I think Al probably did. I still hear him crying almost every night. I know it irritates Tris, and I can't help feeling she should be more understanding. I don't think she's brave, or kind.

#

Luckily for me and my sore arm, we're not going to fight today. Four and Eric take us on the train, and we head towards the Wall. Not one of us struggles or stumbles to get onto the train this time.

'I wonder what's out there,' Tris wonders aloud, as we stand on the wall, looking out at the fields.

'Monsters.' Christina teases.

'Amity farmers.' Will says, sensible and practical as always.

'Looking for someone?' Al asks curiously.

I blush. I am straining to see if any of my friends or family are among the Amity we see far below us. I don't hear what Four is saying about the war, and that places beyond the wall never recovered from it.

But enough gawping. They take us inside for target practice. Not target practice with guns – I'm not too bad at that – but with knives. And I am terrible at it. At least I didn't get the tattoo on my left arm, since I need to use my left hand to throw. I think I'm the worst here, barring Al. At least _my _knives actually hit the target. Most of the time.

It doesn't help that Eric paces around like a caged animal. He stops and stands behind me as I'm preparing to throw my next knife. I wait for a few seconds, hoping he'll move away.

'Waiting for something, initiate?' he asks sharply. I exhale and try to focus on the circle at the centre of the target. I fling my knife. It thuds into the wood at the corner of the target. I feel my face go bright red.

'Well, that was pathetic.' Eric says. He sounds almost happy. I bite my lip hard. It _was _pathetic, but a dozen snappy retorts spring to mind. I think I'd do better to keep them to myself.

Eric moves to stand between Al and me. Al throws his knife, and his doesn't hit anything. It clatters loudly across the floor, and he winces.

'What was that, initiate?' Eric asks. His voice is deceptively quiet, and I know Al is in for it.

'It...it slipped.' Al stammers. I can't help cringing. If Al would only act a little more assertive, a little more confident, Eric wouldn't pick on him so much. As it, Al is quiet, shy, and gentle. He doesn't even stand at his full height; he stoops a little, like he is ashamed of being the tallest person here.

'Well, I think you should go get it.' Eric says. He looks around – we have all stopped throwing our knives to watch what's going on with Eric and Al. 'Did I tell you to stop?' he shouts. He glares at me, and I halfheartedly fling a knife in the general direction of the target.

'Go get it?' Al looks horrified. And _scared. _Scared will make it worse. 'But everyone's still throwing.'

'And?'

'And I don't want to get hit.'

'I think you can trust your fellow initiates to aim better than you. Go get your knife.' Eric grins coldly.

Tris is watching what's happening, and Eric hasn't noticed that Tris and me have both stopped throwing our knives. My blood runs cold. Al's knife is lying right next to my target. My aim is terrible – better than Al's, but still terrible. If he goes to retrieve his knife while I'm throwing, I will most likely end up accidentally stabbing my friend. It looks like Al is thinking the same thing. He sets his wide jaw. 'No.'

'No?' Eric raises his eyebrows. 'Why not? Are you afraid?'

'Of being stabbed by an airborne knife? Yes, I am!'

_No, no! _I think. Stupid Al. Stupid Candor and their stupid honesty. Honesty is not a good idea here. If Eric suspects Al is motivated by cowardice or fear – well, then of course he can't let it go.

'Everybody stop!' Eric shouts.

There is instant silence. Al looks apprehensive to say the least. He's fidgeting around, trying not to look directly at Eric. Tall as Eric is, Al stands at least half a head taller. Maybe that's why Eric doesn't like him.

'Stand in front of the target.' Eric tells him shortly. Al blanches. I think he's guessed what's coming. Eric beckons Four over, and addresses Al again. 'You're going to stand there as he throws those knives, until you learn not to flinch.'

I think Four is trying to reason with Eric, but it's not going to do any good. I can't bear to look at Al. He's standing in front of the target, and he looks terrified. His big hands are shaking. I just know he's going to flinch, or twitch, or move or do _something _that will result in him getting hurt. I want to do something but I don't know what.

'_Stop _it.'

Tris's voice sounds much too loud in the silent room. Eric glares at her, but she doesn't flinch. 'Any idiot can stand in front of a target. It doesn't prove anything except that you're bullying us. Which, as I recall, is a sign of _cowardice_.'

Oh, Tris is asking for it.

'Then it should be easy for you to take his place.' Eric responds smoothly. Tris hesitates for a second, but she knows as well as we do that she's left herself no other option.

Al comes and stands next to me again, and I see he's shaking. Tris doesn't shake. She doesn't flinch. She hardly even moves as Four's knives land inches, centimetres away from her, even when one nicks her ear and it bleeds. I was wrong. Tris is kind, and she is brave. Braver than me.


	4. Chapter 4

**4\. Hellooo there. Hope the story is going well. As you can probably tell, I'd really like some reviews, so I was hoping for a least a couple before I update again. :)**

Al is in a bad way. He can't stop shaking after his ordeal with Eric. By the time we leave the Wall and head back the compound, it's dark. We're standing by the train tracks, hoping we can summon up the energy to heave ourselves up, when I hear my name called. I turn and strain my eyes in the gloom at the dim figure waving at me. He runs up to me and flings his arms around me.

'Emily, I can't believe it's you!' he gasps. Roger. He lets go and steps back, still gripping my upper arms. I wince as he squeezes the sore patch on my right arm, where my tattoo is.

'It's good to see you, Roger,' I smile. I don't have to fake it, at this point I'm so desperate to see someone from home that even Roger is welcome. 'Is...anyone else here? Carrie, or Hamish? Is Mama here?'

'Yes, they're loading the corn into the trucks. Why don't you come and see them?' he asks hopefully. I look around and see Eric standing a few paces off, arms folded. He does _not _look happy. I open my mouth to ask, but Roger interrupts. 'You won't mind if she comes to see her parents, will you? She won't be long, I promise.'

My heart sinks. Roger is much too bright and cheerful. Eric's eyes narrow with dislike. He'll never let me go. I feel like I'm about to cry. I know it's a terrible idea to see my friends and family again, but I have to see them. I grit my teeth. I will _not _cry, not in front of Eric and everyone. I couldn't stand Eric's contempt or my friends' awkward sympathy. I look up to see Eric looking impassively at me. He sighs deeply then stares off into the distance. 'You got ten minutes.' he says, sounding bored. 'In ten minutes the train gets here. If you're not here by then, we leave without you.'

I don't wait to say thank you. I grab Roger's arm. He takes the hint and we run across the dark, empty field like the hounds of hell are chasing us.

'There,' he wheezes, pointing at a group of five trucks surrounded by people.

I barrel straight into Hamish, and he drops a basket of apples, most of which roll under the trucks.

'Emily?' he asks, eyes wide with surprise. I fling my arms around him, and in a second I'm surrounded with my old friends and bombarded by questions.

'You're back!'

'I can't believe it.'

'What is it like?'

'Are they all nice to you?'

'Is the food good?'

'Your face looks different...'

'Are your ears pierced?'

'They don't eat _meat, _do they? Do they?'

'Are you back for good?'

'Have you made many friends?'

Carrie elbows her way through the crowd, talking non-stop, followed by Mama. Mama says nothing, just smiles and cups her hands around my face. 'You've lost weight,' she says eventually. She frowns just slightly as she spots the piercings in my ears. I'm glad the long sleeves of my jacket hide my tattoo.

'...I'm just glad you haven't cut your hair. Do they have flowers in Dauntless? You...' Carrie has to stop for breath.

'Er, no,' I laugh. I've missed her. No one measures up in Dauntless. 'Flowers are...kind of frowned upon.'

'Have these.' Carrie thrusts a handful of wild flowers at me. 'We've missed you.' she smiles, the kind of wide, sincere, loving smile I haven't seen in Dauntless.

'Are you coming to see your father?' Mama asks quietly. 'He's in the other field with your brothers. They will be delighted to see you.'

I blink. 'You mean...you're not angry that I left?' I ask hesitantly. I didn't mean to ask that question. I might not like the answer.

Mama smiles sadly. 'I will not lie to you, Emily. We were hurt. Just as badly as we were hurt when David and the twins left. But this was your decision and yours alone. You seem happy, and you look well, if a little pale.'

Before I can say anything, I hear the clack-clack of train wheels in the distance. The train must be close now, I should have been paying attention.

'The train...I have to go,' I gasp, and wrench myself away from my mother and sprint across the fields. I hear the dull thumping of dozens of footsteps, and I don't have to look behind me to know that my friends and family are running behind me to say goodbye.

I saw this done once when I was a child, over ten years ago, when an Amity boy defected to Dauntless. He came back once, a few weeks after (he must have been at this stage of the training) and when he left on the train, everyone came out and ran alongside the train, waving and shouting. Mama explained to me that this was our way of saying goodbye, because we may never see him again. Sure enough, no one heard from him again. And now it's my turn.

Even though I only had a tiny head start, I outstrip everyone else. Looks like all that training has paid off. I can see the train making its brisk way across the bottom of the field, and I can make out people running alongside and jumping in. I run faster. If I miss the train, I will be factionless.

The people on the train have spotted me now; Will and Christina wave madly, Edward and Al and Tris all yell encouragement. I race after the train, blood pounding in my ears. Al reaches out a hand to help me up, but I want to do this on my own. I grab the rail and drag myself up and into the safety of the carriage. As soon as I'm safe, I look back at the crowd. They have reached the train by now, but only a small group can keep up. Carrie and Hamish are at the front, and I guess my brothers have heard the news, because they are running as hard as they can to catch up. Everyone runs by the train for as long as they can, waving and yelling, smiling broadly at me. I hang out of the train, waving, until the last person has disappeared back into the dark, and all I can hear is distant laughing and talking. I have never felt so alone.

#

The others wisely leave me alone. I plan to just sit quietly and compose myself on the journey back, but someone elbows Al aside and stands in front of me, arms folded, furious.

'Where did you go?' Four demands. I get to my feet. He sounds angrier than I've ever heard before.

'I went to see my family.' I say. I am bone tired.

'Oh? Really?' Four gives a hard, mirthless laugh. 'You just ran off to see mummy and daddy, did you? What on earth makes you think _you _have the right to go see _your_ family? You just disappear, without explanation or permission...'

This is not fair. 'I _did _have permission!' I interrupt. Tris is shaking her head at me, as if to say, _shut up before he pushes you out of the train _but I ignore her.

'Oh, you did?' Four raises an eyebrow. 'I suppose you're going to say you gave yourself permission?'

'No, Eric said I could go.'

There is a silence. Four snorts. 'You expect me to believe that _Eric _said...'

'I did.' Eric appears at Four's shoulder.

'You said she could leave, right before the train arrived, to talk to her old faction?' Four asks disbelievingly. If I didn't know better, I might say Eric looked almost embarrassed.

'Yeah. She asked for permission ten minutes before the train was due. I didn't see anything wrong with it, so long as she got back in time. And she did.'

'Oh.' Four looks deflated. He glances at me. 'I guess I owe you an apology.'

'I shouldn't have gone.' I mutter under my breath, but I know Four heard. Eric turns and walks away, and Four gives him a strange, calculating look.

**#**

I've managed to claw my way up to fourth place in the rankings. The final scores are tomorrow, when we'll find out who gets cut. Tris has done well, she's ranked just below Molly, who is _not _happy. Al and Myra are in the last two spots. Unless the Dauntless born are all ranked exceptionally badly – which I doubt – they are going to get cut. I don't care about Myra, she's made it clear she doesn't like me, but I am frantic with worry about Al.

'Al needs to win another fight,' I announce one evening. It's only Will, Christina and I alone in the dorms. Christina snorts. '_I've_ already beaten him,' she grins. It's true, Al hates hurting people. He's taken to deliberately forfeiting his fights – either letting them knock him out or just refusing to put up a fight.

'This is serious. I'm worried that he's going to get cut.'

'Oh, you're worried about him, are you?' Christina teases. 'I thought you liked Edward.'

My face burns. 'Shut up, Christina!'

She's right, but it's pointless. Edward's nice to me, but anyone with eyes can see how much he likes Myra. Everyone except Myra, it seems, because she's exceptionally possessive of Edward whenever I'm around.

'There's a good chance he'll be up against you tomorrow,' Will says seriously. 'Be careful. If he wins, he might go up a place in the rankings. But you might go down. You've got more of a chance of making it in Dauntless than Al. You don't want to get cut.'

Being factionless is a nightmare. From what I've seen, they don't get enough food or clothing, their shelter is ramshackle at best, and the only work they can do is the most menial manual labour jobs. For which they get paid in food; but they never get enough. That's why Abnegation help them so much. I do not want to be factionless. But Al's in such a state, I'm afraid we're going to wake one morning and find his body in the bottom of the chasm.

'OK, Al and Emily, in the ring.' Eric shouts out. I jump into the ring, and Al makes his slow, reluctant way across the floor. His head down, he looks thoroughly beaten already.

'Stand up straight,' I snap.

Surprised, he complies. 'Why?'

'You look like a kicked puppy, Al. You're the strongest person here, you shouldn't wander around like you're scared of your own shadow.'

He frowns. 'Let's just get this over with. Go easy on me, eh?'

'Al. You need to win this one. It might help your ranking.'

'I'm not going to hurt you, Emily. I don't like hurting people.'

'Me neither. But I don't like losing either.'

Wow. That's possibly the most un-amity-like sentence I've ever uttered. Losing does not matter to the Amity. We are not competitive.

'Stop flirting, just get on with it.' Eric growls.

Al lifts his arms and half-heartedly clenches his fists. He's over a foot taller than me. This is ridiculous.

'You won't make it through initiation if you go on like this,' I whisper through gritted teeth. He says nothing, but I know he can hear me. I aim a punch at his side. Certainly not enough to do damage, but enough to hurt. Enough to make him angry.

'You really are a coward, Al,' I sigh, and hit again in the same spot, where it's probably already bruised and sore. I try a third time but this time he blocks me, and my whole arm jars from the impact.

'You're a crybaby too,' I add, and aim at punch at his upper arm. I can't physically reach any further.

'You keep everyone awake at night. Tris was complaining.' I aim a punch at his other arm, and I know from experience it will be painfully numb.

He's still not fighting back. I saw him take down Will with one blow, I'm sure if I provoke him enough he'll fight back. I desperately want Al to win this one. I don't want to lose my friend.

'No wonder your parents are so embarrassed by you,' I try, and I hear him growl under his breath, and I hit him the side again, and he yelps quietly. I feel terrible.

'You idiot.' I mutter, lowering my defence a little. Just enough. I aim for his side again, and suddenly Al lashes out and hits me around the side of the head and everything goes black.

#

'I guess Al won that one.' I can hear a faint voice announcing. I think it's Eric's voice. There's an awful ringing in my head and half my face feels numb.

'Is she OK? Is she? This is all my fault...' I hear Al's voice echoing way above me. I tentatively open my eyes. At least they're not swollen shut. It takes a few seconds to get used to the blinding light, and I realise that I'm lying on my back in the middle of the ring. Al is supporting my head, and it sounds like he's crying.

'That looks painful,' Edward winces, leaning over me.

'Really?' I gingerly prod my face. Beside a painful lump on the back of my head, presumably where I hit the floor, my left cheek and lip is horribly swollen, and I think my nose is bleeding.

'Oh well,' I try and sound cheerful. 'It feels like I've got all my teeth.'

Edward laughs awkwardly, and Christina cackles. 'It feels like it, does it?' she giggles. 'It doesn't _sound _like it. "Ik feelsh loi ah've go' or meh teef"' she imitates me, then falls about laughing.

'Hilarious.' I don't smile. I think smiling would be a painful experience right now.

'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...' Al babbles.

'Take her to the infirmary,' Eric says, 'Could have been worse, amity girl,' he addresses me with a slight smile. 'Good of you to let him win like that.'

If my face wasn't so swollen, I'd argue that there was no way I _let _Al win. But as it was, all I could really do was mumble something incoherent as Al picked me up and carried me toward the infirmary.

I wasn't in long. The swelling went down and all I was left with was a split lip and a headache. Everyone else was still training, so I decided to go back to the dorms and try and sleep off the headache. I was still making my wobbly way down the hall when Al interrupted me.

'Emily? Are you OK?'

'Um, yeah,' I try to smile, but it probably looks more like a grimace. 'Worst headache ever.'

He doesn't smile. He twists his hands together. 'I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I hit you like you. I didn't mean...I just wanted you to stop.'

'Shut up, you mean? Al, I didn't mean any of those things I said. You're not a coward, or an idiot. Your parents would never be embarrassed by you. I just said all that because I wanted you to hit out.

I thought that if you won that fight, your ranking might improve. So you needed to beat me.'

'Oh.' Al says in a small voice. I feel like a monster.

'Thank you,' he ventures after a long silence. 'But you were right. I won't make it through initiation.'

Candor believe that the Amity lie to keep the peace. They're right. We are prepared to lie if it will keep the peace, if it will make someone happy, and do some good. I am prepared to do that.

'You will make it, Al. I promise.' I tell him.


End file.
